Base Love
by Nommy
Summary: Melody Cousland, a young girl on the cusp of womanhood falls in love with King Maric at first sight; the Golden King is so magnificent she becomes entranced and unable to think of anything else. However, a noble girl has many suitors, making rivals and friends as she goes from one Arling's home to another. Soon she will learn a hard lesson in love. AU Pre DA:O possible prequel.
1. A Golden King

**I.**

A Golden King

To a young lady of the country, Denerim – Ferelden's largest and most exciting city – was most definitely a better change of pace than Highever. The royal palace of Denerim was a sight to behold; tapestries decorated any visible walls with the great epics: Andraste's rally, her downfall and death all sprawled along the great chambers alongside King Calenhad's unification of Ferelden all sewn by the Sisters of the Chantry with love and reverence.

Great beams of sunlight streamed through the huge stained glass windows depicting stories as well; on one, the story of Garahel, the elf who defeated the darkspawn so very long ago. His golden sword held high above his handsomely distorted features, gleaming and lit up like a true hero. Banners fluttered above the heads of the nobles, slowly and languidly identifying all who were in residence at the palace; the Howes banner, a bear afoot on a field of both gold and silver hung beside the Couslands banner of silver wings fluttering on a field of royal blue, the various Banns' own banners hung all along the rafters, endless and all different, all in accordance to whom was here to represent the noble families of Ferelden's gentry..

Many of Ferelden's noble houses were here to celebrate the King's forty-first birthday; his great friend and ally, General Loghain Mac Tir was present, as too was his banner which shifted in the breeze beside the King's own banner, a fearsome green dragon rampant on a field of black. The Theirin banner was the biggest and most intricate, hung above the throne in the great hall; two golden lions rampant in adverse to one another on a field of gold and silver.

Melody Cousland's green eyes peered up at the banner and tugged on her father's richly sewn sleeve without looking away from the beautiful emblem of the King's house. Teyrn Bryce Cousland bent down a little to listen to his girl's chatter; he gazed upon the bairne fondly and smiled softly as her gentle voice uttered, like the coo of a dove amongst the hustle of the hall;

"Papa, there are two lions on the King's banner..." Her eyes were still on the rich fabric.

"Yes, Pup. What of it?" He asked not unkindly, his hand coming up to rest protectively on her shoulder; the little girl's frown was curious; "But there is only one king...why two lions fighting?" The Teyrn frowned deeply and pondered his twelve-year-old daughter's question a moment before shrugging lightly and chuckling,

"What makes you think they're fighting, Pup?"

"They're up on their hind legs," She pointed at the banner and went on. "They've both got their paws in the air, clawing at the other and they've got their tongues out...like the dogs in the kennels that were sick, d'you remember, Papa?" The Teyrn nodded, looking solemn as he eyed the banner;

"Aye, Pup...I remember." His voice was growing stern as he looked down at his daughter.

"They remind me of those lions...they look very sick and angry."

The girl's father was cut off as the Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon Guerrin, appeared from the commotion; his black beard was greying slightly in accordance with Bryce's and the Teyrn smiled a wrinkle-inducing grin and stood to his full height. He walked over proudly, his age not degrading him even slightly and embraced his old friend and comrade.

"Bryce! Maker, son, you're looking as old as I am!" The Arl exclaimed good-naturedly.

Beside the Arl was a lady, golden-haired; she was extremely beautiful with compassionate blue eyes and full lips. She carried herself like a true obedient wife and ducked her head and averted her eyes; Melody looked from this woman to her own mother and noted straight away their differences. Lady Eleanor Cousland stepped onwards, past her husband who was still joshing with Arl Eamon and extended a smooth hand to the Arlessa, Isolde – Arl Eamon's Orlesian bride – and wished her well, asking after the health of her baby which was quickening in her belly at that very moment.

"We are hoping for a lad, my lady." The Arl explained as he gently placed a hand on his wife's loosely laced stomacher; so tenderly and so careful was he with his wife, Melody watched curiously as the younger lady gazed lovingly into her husband's eyes and placed her own tiny hand over his large calloused, soldier's hand. They seemed to be very much in love; Melody felt a desire to be a wife like Isolde, loved and treated with gentle care by her husband, just as she was.

"I hope the Maker grants you a son, Eamon." Lady Cousland said graciously. Suddenly one of her dark eyebrows rose; "And speaking of sons, Bryce, where is ours?" The Teyrn turned and peered around furtively; "Flames! Boy's run off again. He and Cailan have been thicker'n thieves the last few days. I'll send Old Rod to track them down. Excuse me, my love."

The Teyrn quickly pecked his wife's cheek and patted Melody's head before dashing off. Instinctively Melody pressed into her mother's flank and became shy around the Arl and his wife. Noticing her, the Arl bent to his knee and said kindly with a gentle smile;

"And who is this? Not Bryce's daughter, surely! Far too pretty, you must be Eleanor's sister."

Lady Cousland laughed demurely and presented her daughter to the Arl. Or she tried to.

"D-darling," She began trying to gently unclasp Melody's grip around her leg. "This is the Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon Guerrin and this is his lovely wife, the Lady Isolde. Won't you be courteous and greet them?" The Arl was still knelt, his wife's hand on his shoulder.

Melody gulped and stepped forward, trying to emulate her mother's grace and elegance but feared she looked foolish. The Arl's eyes were twinkling; he looked rather reminiscent, nostalgic even and eyed the girl before him who dropped an impeccable curtsy, one which he was sure the girl had practiced time and time again;

"Good day to you, my lord and lady; I will pray to the Maker for the safe arrival of your baby boy and may Andraste smile on you both."

"Remarkable," The Arl said with a wry grin, "You are the very picture of your dear mother at her age and I thank you for your prayers, sweet child. My wife and I appreciate them beyond measure." Lady Cousland beamed at the girl, who returned to her side quickly and felt the familiar comfort of warmth. "Is your brother here, Eamon?" Asked Lady Cousland and the Arl shook his dark head,

"Nay, Eleanor. I left him in Redcliffe, he is to inherit the Bann of Rainisfere, and he is honing his skills in my own castle until I deem him ready to take on the responsibility. He's a good lad though, he'll get there eventually." Lady Cousland bowed her head and smiled warmly, "Yes, when Teagan warded with us for a year, he and Fergus became fast friends."

The Arl's smile was genuine at the thought of his younger brother, he had only him left and it was evident in the pride radiated that the Arl still clearly held his younger sister's death close to his heart. Melody saw the grief play on the Arl's ageing face, he missed Rowan deeply and her sudden death not a year ago was felt as keenly as a dagger between his ribs. Without thinking, Melody left her mother's leg and approached the Arl; tentatively she placed her little hand on his sleeve and said very sincerely;

"We, all of us miss your sister, the Queen, my lord. I am sure that Teagan shall be a very just and much-loved Bann of his people just as you yourself are, ser."

Arl Eamon's blue eyes glazed a little and he bowed his head, his wife eyed the child suspiciously and came to her husband's side and placed her hand in his which he squeezed to compose himself. Lady Cousland came forward, resting her hands on her daughter's shoulders, she looked slightly put off by her daughter's mislead act of sympathy and threw an apologetic look to the Arl who shook his head and waved both women away. Kneeling again, he beckoned the child over. Melody turned a look to her mother, one of slight panic, but the Teyrna nodded warmly and let her go, gently pushing her towards the Arl.

Melody stood before Arl Eamon, both hands behind her back, her posture trembling a little in her fine garments. Eamon regarded her for what she was, a little girl who sought to comfort a grieving old man. He smiled again at her and outstretched a hand, which in it she placed hers and the Arl said;

"I thank you for your sympathies; you are a little lady certainly. You are indeed your father's daughter to show such compassion. Your beauty of look and soul is undeniably your parents' both and it speaks well of them for you to comfort an old man."

Melody smiled sheepishly a true blush colouring her milky skin. She bowed her head and thanked the Arl graciously just as her mother would want her to and returned to her side. The Arl bade them farewell just as a commotion was building at the front of the hall, the Teyrna fretted to herself;

"Oh, where is your father? We cannot present ourselves to the King without him present..."

Melody frowned, it was unlike her mother to wait on her husband, if Lady Eleanor had business she would conduct on her own then that was just that, Teyrn Bryce usually had no say in the matter when it came to his unbearably headstrong – if extremely loving – wife.

"I hope he's found your brother," She said quietly to Melody who tugged her sleeve.

"Mother, there they both are – they're talking to somebody." Lady Cousland followed her daughter's pointed finger and sighed; relief. She motioned for Melody to follow her as she made her way towards her son and husband.

Melody beamed at Fergus who smiled back and waved, he was a young lad of fifteen-years-old, learning swords and archery, riding and jousting. He was to be a soldier and the next Teyrn of Highever. Melody and he were particularly close and she could not wait to ask him about the _Princess_.

Melody had a mind to meet her, she had heard so much of the Princess's grace and beauty; she wished to see her and if the Maker was willing, possibly learn from her. There was no need however; Melody blanched and stumbled slightly, beside her father was a tall man.

_Father_ was a tall man to Melody, but this golden-haired goliath was huge, he towered over the small circle gathered around him. He was adorned in gold-plated armour which shone so bright and winked so brilliantly at Melody she had to blink the spots away. His hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, his face was shaven save for a dark bronzy goatee which traced around his smiling lips, his face which was scored little by age was perfect. His eyes were the colour of polished sapphires underneath a brow of gold; he was the most beautiful man Melody had ever seen in her whole life. She was entranced.

Hearing the girl stumble, Lady Eleanor peered back and saw her dark-haired daughter in a heap on the floor; she gasped and went to her side and helped the disgruntled girl to her feet, wiping her down and asking if she was alright as she did so. Melody nodded vacantly, her eyes still enthralled by the man all in gold; she watched him as he noticed the commotion she had just made and their eyes locked. Melody nearly fainted and shook her head, only just hearing her mother;

"What? Oh, yes...Yes, Mother I'm fine...I just seemed to trip and...Fall in front of all these people..."

Her face flamed with shame and embarrassment. Suddenly there was a shout from one of the nobles in the room; "Is she the fool?!" Melody's cheeks surged even hotter as some of the people in the room began to laugh, including a beautiful girl who was stood beside a tired looking man – Melody knew straight away that it was the Princess. She flushed with horror and tried to laugh too, catching her brother's eye; she saw the pity in Fergus' expression.

Melody tried to shake off her mother's hand so she could flee until suddenly the man adorned all in gold held up a gauntleted hand and silenced the laughter in the hall. The noise died and Lady Cousland backed away from her daughter as he strode towards Melody and stood before the blushing girl;

"Gents, this girl is no fool,"

He began grandly, casting his lovely eyes all across the room. Melody spied her father smiling at her; he winked and nodded slightly; Melody returned her attention to the man and listened as he said,

"It is I who is the fool. Ferelden is governed by a fool who would blind a young lass as she made her way over to her father's side." He turned his attention to her and bowed very solemnly and offered her his hand;

"I should have refrained from standing too close to that window, my lady. I fear the glare from this blasted breastplate may have momentarily blinded you, causing you to fall. I am very sorry."

Melody swayed; everyone was looking at them. But all that she could see was this man before her; he had redirected the laughter and now all of the nobles were chuckling at his jest and no longer at her clumsiness, but he was looking at her and smiling knowingly. She knew then exactly who this man was and the realisation nearly made her choke and vomit from humiliation. King Maric grinned wryly and cautioned her;

"I can save you from but one fall, young lady. Nary two, so keep your feet, little soldier. This business will hopefully be over soon. Just smile."

So she did, Melody; strengthened by the King's own smile managed a weak grin and laughed rather prettily along with the rest of the hall. She noticed however, the Princess's ice-blue eyes on her, regarding her, scrutinising and hard. Melody felt the heat of jealousy radiate from the blonde girl and shirked, it seemed Anora had found no love for the young Cousland.

-ooo-

The Princess's gardens which had been given to Loghain's only daughter, _Princess_ Anora were beautiful. The flowers which came in each and every colour were all in bloom, roses, orchids, honeysuckle and violets all on one bush blossomed and dripped pollen, the hum of bees accompanied the beautiful buds.

The Princess was sitting demurely with her gaggle of young ladies, all giggling and throwing cautious – and beckoning – looks to the boys who were at the opposite end of the garden. Melody sat on one of the stone benches underneath the high wall which ran around the place, out of the sun; she sat with her eyes squinting in the middle of both boys and girls.

Fergus appeared before her and teased; "Where's my gift?" Melody peered up and said confused; "Pardon, Brother?" Fergus laughed and exclaimed, "From your trip! Where's my gift?!" Melody flushed and turned away from him, "Oh, go away! I already made myself look the fool; I don't need you making it worse."

"Aww, Sister. I know it was embarrassing but the King saved you, didn't he?" Melody brightened at the mention of the King and smiled quite dreamily; "He is magnificent, isn't he?" She gushed and Fergus rubbed the back of his neck; "Well...yes. He drove out the Orlesians, he's commanded armies and led our land out of occupation and freed us all. So, yes; he is rather magnificent."

"Uh...yes. That's what I meant..." Melody said weakly making Fergus eye her more closely.

"Oho! Did my little sister fall head over heels as well as on her arse?!"

"Shut up!"

"You did!" Fergus exclaimed before dissolving into a fit of laughter at her burning face.

"Oh, sweet sister," He began as he sat down beside her in the shade; "Surely you'd be wanting someone your own age? The King is a legend but he's a man. An old man."

"He's not an old man," Melody defended him and said wistfully; "He's...he's...marvellous and very noble, he did not have to come to my aid like that but he did. I doubt any man could say they were as grand and handsome as he at their age – you included. You'll be a weathered old boot by thirty."

At that her brother laughed throatily and slapped his knee. Melody smothered a giggle as a few of the ladies over by the wall with the Princess began to peer over curiously at the dark-haired Couslands. Ignoring the girls making eyes at him, Fergus took his sister's hand and said comfortingly;

"I suppose it speaks well of you, Sister."

"What does?" Melody asked, her brow creasing and Fergus flashed their father's grin;

"The only man who can turn your head is a king."

-ooo-

For the next few days, Melody found herself constantly watching the King. He was breathtaking, celebrating his forty first year alive, he took the saddle, broke umpteen lances in the jousts showing his grace by shaking hands with losers and winners alike. He fought in the _melee_, beat down dozens of would-be combatants, his height and form was something to be admired. Melody was utterly fixated.

Oft, Fergus would elbow her sharply in the ribs to stop her from staring so wantonly but she honestly could not help herself. King Maric was just so grand, so golden and so unearthly; she could not command the willpower to make herself drag her eyes from him and his beauty. At the feasts, he would laugh, slapping his old war comrades – her father chief amongst them – the King was always very dutiful to the ladies too. If the night grew tedious with men's chatter of wars, tactics, weapons and horses the King would order music and the night would grow merry once again.

He gambled, drank and danced; he was a fun loving man but also one of policy, during the days; when his guests were enjoying his palace, he would disappear into his study for hours on end – those were the hardest parts for Melody, for he was not about to brighten the place up. However, when he emerged; light flooded the palace once again; it was almost as though the sun rose twice in a day.

As smitten as Melody was with the King; she could not help but to notice his son, Cailan. A strong boy of seventeen, Cailan was the image of his father – the unseasoned version, with less grace. He ignored the advances of his betrothed of forever, Anora. The Princess would grow frustrated with the Prince's loyalty to swords, bows and boyhood. She was slightly older, a girl of twenty, she wished for something concrete, something more meaningful from her child-husband but as long as Maric was on the throne, Melody knew that Cailan would not grow up as the self-proclaimed Princess wished.

All too soon their visit was at an end, the two-week revels had to come to an end at one point. It seemed like it had all been a dream and before Melody knew what was happening, she was packed up and set in a litter; her brother ridden alongside her on his strong roan. The Couslands rode northward along with the Howes of Amaranthine, they were the Teyrn's Banns – men under his protection and command, but with authority and power of their own. Melody was dreaded to find that she was stuck in a litter with Arl Howe's family.

His youngest son, Thomas, eyed her with what she could only describe was disdain, his sister; Delilah was no better, sneering and curling her nose whenever Melody even glanced her way. Arl Howe's wife – whose name Melody did not know – was all but mute. When Lady Eleanor checked in the litter to make sure her daughter was alright, Melody pleaded to be allowed to travel the rest of the journey in the saddle but her mother refused and urged her daughter to be courteous;

"It won't be for long, darling. You should get to know Thomas – he's a...lovely lad." She lied weakly.

Melody frowned and heard her mother mutter quietly, "If only you could have met Nathaniel, he's the most talkative of the lot – I think you'd like him, too." When she saw her daughter eye her; she smiled and kissed her forehead,

"You must learn to be tolerant, my dear. These boys and girls will be your Banns and ladies in waiting when you come of age. You should make friends now. Bonds that'll last until the end of time."

Dourly, Melody nodded. There was no point arguing and resigned herself to a quiet trip. The only one bright spot was that when she went to sleep every night she could dream of the King coming to her rescue once again making her smile.


	2. The Silver Princess

**II.**

The Silver Princess

Redcliffe castle lounged ahead, the afternoon sun bursting past the tall towers which glinted, the shiny tiles reflecting the sun's brilliance on this hot summer's day. The castle sprawled over the cliff top magnificently, larger than any other Arling's abode, the castle had stood for hundreds of years, since the days of King Calenhad and possibly beyond. Redcliffe was a quaint little fishing port, one of the bigger settlements north of Ostagar.

Heat hung heavily, intensifying the already pungent stench of fish and brine and children ran, gleeful in their nakedness, into the sparkling shallows of Lake Calenhad. Utterly ignoring the sign which read 'no swimming' even the guards turned a blind eye to the children's frivolities in the sweltering heat. Mothers watched anxiously and fathers cuffed their sons who wanted to abandon their work and join the water festivities. The shore was a commotion of delighted squeals, agitated barks and eager hollers carrying over from the merchants selling their wares in the small square. Summer had come to Ferelden early this year and everybody was enjoying the fair weather.

Banners streamed lazily in the airless breeze, the King's own standard fluttering proudly from the castle's flag pole, signalling that the King of Ferelden, the hero of the land, Maric Theirin was inside. There was laughter and a lightness that energized the small village nestled in amongst the Frostback Mountains and Lake Calenhad, Redcliffe's royal visitors had drawn a slew of merchants and entertainers. Anybody who was willing to make the travel to try and catch the royal eye at a more intimate distance than in Denerim was here, baying for either the coin trail which the King left in his wake, or His Majesty's attention.

"Wines! Wines for sale! All the way from Val Royeaux, the city of your Arlessa's birth! Come, have a taste!"

Bryce Cousland put a shielding hand on his daughter's slight shoulder whilst slinging another over his eldest, his son, Fergus. "Father?" Began Fergus, the boy's bright blue eyes dancing and his dark chestnut hair shifting in the wind, Bryce eyed his son fondly, knowing what he'd ask before he did;

"May I go down to the lake?" He asked eagerly, his eyes big and pleading.

"I want to go too, Father! If Fergus can go, can I go with him?!" His daughter, Melody, piped.

"Children," He chuckled, "I'm sorry but I can't have you both wandering off. If I lose you here your mother would have my head mounted and served to the King for his supper. I'm sorry, lad, lass; maybe another time." Fergus pouted, surely, and shrugged off his father's arm and marched on ahead, ignoring them in his mood.

Bryce sighed and his broad shoulders sagged, the heat was intense and he peeped down at his hip and hoisted his little daughter up and placed her on his shoulders; "Can't have you falling from heat, can we, Pup?!" Melody laughed and embedded her small hands in her father's dark locks which were threaded with grey.

"Look!" Bryce exclaimed and pointed his finger towards the hilltop which Redcliffe castle stood on; Melody followed his finger and let out a gasp of delight; coming downwards from the castle was the King, the Arl and a whole entourage at his back. Melody squirmed on her father's shoulders and bobbed up and down causing him to laugh and tell her to be still lest she fall from his shoulders; "Look at them all, Father! There's hundreds!"

"Aye, that there is, Pup...where- Where's your brother?"

Melody sobered and peered around the full marketplace and shook her head, "I don't know...he was here a minute ago."

"Maker!" Bryce growled and gently lifted Melody from his shoulders and placed her down. His dazzling blue eyes narrowed as he spotted his son; laughing with some other boys, he looked to be heading down to the lake. Bryce sucked in a breath and exhaled, more from relief, but there was a good measure of exasperation in there too.

"Wait here, Pup. I'll be back in a moment." He said to his daughter and strode off purposely with the intention of apprehending his son. Melody stood motionless, amidst the waves of people, all milling around in excitement at the sight of the Arl's company approaching the town.

"Wine! Come and have a taste of wine! You there, lovely girl; would you have some wine?"

Melody turned, her dark green eyes entranced by the wine merchant. He was a lovely thing, young and sleek-skinned, he was of a dark complexion and his accent was strange, twanged so that each of his words rolled off his tongue and floated to the ears. His dark eyes gleamed as bright as a beetle's back as he beckoned the young girl over; she stood before his stall as he presented her with a beautifully ornate bottle with some red liquid inside.

"Will the little lady have a taste? The first is free," He said smoothly with a wry grin which made her blush.

"I...can't." She stammered sheepishly. Melody was usually shy and the man's face was causing an unexpected wave of bashfulness. She felt rather silly standing there but she drew herself up and politely declined when he made a pained face, his knees bending a little, he mock-pleaded;

"Oh, but it is only a taste, lovely girl. Won't you try some of Antiva's finest? Made by the brothers of the Antivan Chantry and aged in a delightfully dark cellar for nigh on ten years!"

"You're from Antiva?" Melody chirped and a delightfully roguish smile decorated the merchant's lovely features;

"_Si, mi querida_; the most beautiful city in Thedas! With even better wine, I might add. Please, have a taste."

Melody almost felt bullied by his charm and relented, reaching out her hand she took the bottle and sniffed it as the merchant turned and with a flourish and produced an equally as ornate glass, he took the bottle and poured the girl a half glass and motioned for her to drink. The wine tasted fruity, with a blast of zesty bitterness which was not altogether unpleasant; Melody smiled and had another sip before nodding her dark head and returning the glass daintily;

"It tastes lovely, thank you."

"So, _mi novio_; will you buy a casket, only twenty silvers and it is yours."

His bright pearly teeth illuminated his face again as he beamed down on her; Melody was at a loss for words, and gaped like a fool before she shrugged her shoulders and grasped for words;

"I-uh, well..."

"What's going on here, Pup?"

Bryce Cousland's stormy face almost dimmed the sun. Melody whipped around quickly and ducked her head; Fergus was by their father's side looking just as aggravated as his father. They must have had words, Melody deduced. "This man is a wine merchant from Antiva, Father. Did you know that it is the acolytes of the Chantry that make the wine there?" Bryce's brow furrowed, but a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Oh really, Daughter? And what does a _thirteen-year-old_ girl know about Antivan wines?" He directed his sentence at the wine merchant whose eyes widened when he heard how old the girl was and that the big man with the gleaming rapier at his hip was her father. Melody flushed and squeaked;

"Only that one thing, Father."

"Precisely." His gaze slid from his daughter to the merchant and he nodded his head, "Any good?"

The merchant brightened and gave the glass to Bryce, pouring the man a glass he said; "Only the best." With a downturned mouth, Bryce took a sip and then bobbed his head again before taking another experimental sip.

Turning to his daughter, he asked; "Did you like this, Pup?" Melody nodded her head and smiled pleasantly as Bryce smiled warmly and ducked his head, "So do I." He said in an almost confessional tone before laughing loudly; "Alright then, merchant. A cask of your Antivan red, it tastes too fruity to do any real damage to my pup."

"Ah, excellent, _caballero_! Your daughter is a spoiled princess, no?"

"She's not a princess, merchant..." Bryce turned slightly and drew the girl into his flank affectionately and winked down at her before saying firmly; "She's my princess. Thank you."

"A good day to you and yours may the Maker smile fortune on you!"

With that Bryce nodded and hefted the casket under his arm, "Right, come away you two. We must go and meet your mother; she'll be in the retinue with the Arlessa no doubt."

They began to make their way through the press of villagers with Fergus throwing longing looks over towards the lake where the other boys and girls were playing; clenching his fist he sighed as Melody came up alongside him and pressed her shoulder into his arm. "What's wrong?" She asked quietly. Fergus didn't answer; he just let out another sigh and shook his head,

"It's nothing, little sister. Don't concern yourself."

"You might as well tell me...I won't tell Father." At that the sixteen-year-old boy laughed and ruffled her hair. "I'm not concerned about you telling Father, Mel. It's just...I sometimes wish I wasn't...y'know _me_."

"_You_?" Melody's brow creased and then she laughed, "Why wouldn't you want to be you?!" Her brother's boyish shoulders sagged and fell as he let out another breath; "If we weren't Father's children we could play in the lake. We could have some fun. Some real adventure." Melody nodded her head ponderously before pointing out happily, "But none of the boys down by the lake know how to swing a sword. How can you go on real adventures with boys who can't fight?" Fergus smiled then, dourly, but he was smiling which made Melody laugh.

"See? It's good being our father's children. And you get to ride, learn a joust, all that. It isn't so bad, Fergus. At least you don't have to sing and dance, sew and learn how to play the lute..." Melody shuddered, "I hate that bloody thing. The strings hurt my fingers!" Fergus's laugh boomed out above her and she giggled when she felt his arm come around her shoulders playfully rough;

"So you want to fight, eh; Lady Cousland?!"

"Don't call me that! I'm not 'Lady' anything yet! Now, get off!"

Fergus chuckled, "I thought my lady wanted to learn to fight!" Melody grunted, trying to dislodge herself from her brother's firm grip and twisted, "I don't with you! You're too rough!"

"Oh, you think the Orlesians Father fought were all soft and nice to him? Your enemies won't treat you delicately, Sister! Come on, put them up!" With another grunt, Melody giggled giddily and managed to twirl herself out from under her brother's arm and elbow him indiscreetly in the gut. He doubled over winded and peered up from behind the hank of hair which covered his eyes and spluttered;

"Aye, but Sister; you never fight fair."

Melody's smart response was cut off. Before she could speak, another said smoothly and grandly; "We are women, Son. Nothing comes to us fairly. Now, if you two are quite finished brawling in the streets like urchins, come and greet your dear mother."

Fergus got up and turned, before he could even smile he heard Melody shriek delightedly; "Mother!" Shoving her brother back – not unkindly - Melody bounded towards her and flung herself at her mother while Fergus trailed along behind alongside his father, absently rubbing his tummy where the pain of his sister's underhanded attack still dwelt.

"Greetings, my love."

Bryce said fondly, his smile tender as he leaned over Melody's head and pressed an affectionate kiss against his wife's cheek, the casket of wine still under his arm. Lady Eleanor's lively green eyes glittered and softened as she gazed up at her husband, one hand rested on her daughter's dark brow and another on her husband's chest, she looked over grandly at her boy; Fergus stopped a few feet from her and bowed impeccably, flanked as his mother was by the King's court along with Arl Eamon's to boot.

Fergus gave his mother a lopsided grin which was ghosted with grief; Lady Eleanor's too mirrored her son's sadness, she wanted nothing more than a hug from her boy, but he was sixteen now; almost a man, and court protocol had to be followed to the letter.

She gave him a sweet smile and stepped around her daughter, leaving her with her father; she placed a hand on her son's shoulder and said softly, "And a very good day to you, my son. I trust you are well?" Fergus tensed and nodded rigidly, but his voice lacked its edge; "Yes, Mother. I am very well, thank you."

"Beating up your sister?" Lady Eleanor enquired playfully, a twinkle in her eye. "_Me_?! She's got a better sword arm than Father, she does!" Fergus complained, still rubbing his sore flesh. His mother laughed, a lovely sound; a trill almost, and she turned away and said to her husband;

"Well, it seems we are a family of warriors; what shall become of us?"

-ooo-

Dinner that night was merry, the Prince's eighteenth birthday was at hand and the King toasted his son and very generously granted him prestigious titles and land, a new hunter, a dozen hawks – hoods, pedestals and gloves and all – about twenty dogs to hunt with and two new golden wrought swords.

Cailan stood and solemnly accepted his father's gifts with a great show of grace. The young man then turned and bestowed upon his betrothed, Anora, one of the beautiful hawks. It was stark white, peering indignantly and sharply from its cage; great golden eyes blazed underneath its little hood. Anora – who seemed mildly satisfied with the gift – took the creature and accepted the toast which her young husband-to-be gave to her.

Melody thought that the caged hawk with the keen eyes, seeing everything and anything reminded her of the Princess herself, but she kept that to herself and clapped with everyone else when the gifts were given.

After an evening of dancing and festivities the night began to wind down with the recently-birthed Arlessa bidding her husband goodnight. Melody's mother left with the unburdened woman and kissed her children goodnight and urged Bryce to get them to bed within the hour. The Teyrn smiled warmly up at his wife, gently caressing her hand which was on one of his shoulders; he touched her cheek and promised tenderly that she need not fear. With an affectionate smile and a loving kiss, the Teyrna was abed.

Melody could barely contain her excitement, dressed in a butter-yellow gown made of light satin, pearls dripped from her earlobes a little chain circlet of gold and emeralds rested upon her brow making her green eyes shine brightly. Her father eyed her rather closely and when she caught him doing so; Melody smiled daintily and gave him a little wave as she sat at the wall on the bench alongside other unmarried maids. Bryce smiled warmly and returned the wave; his lament at his daughter's growing up lessening so at the sight of her vulnerability.

The hall was well lit, candles flickered as ladies and maids were tossed delicately by gentlemen as they danced. Hair unbound, the maids all dressed in mild girlish colours, pinks, baby blues and butter yellows; like tantalizing little butterflies they fluttered and flitted around the room; they had golden circlets encrusted with precious stones on their brows and woven into their long locks. The married ladies all had their hair bound with ribbons and gold threaded into their thick shiny braids. Melody sat between Delilah Howe and another noble girl whom Melody did not know. She sat with her hands clasped and her eyes on the dancing, unlike the other girls who sat with their heads croqueted, demure and eyes downcast like they had no idea how pretty they looked in their dresses.

Melody noticing this, gasped, and tried to copy the other girls – although, to her own annoyance.

What was the point of keeping one's head bowed? How did the other girls expect to watch the dancing? How would they know when somebody might come over and ask them to dance? Melody pondered these questions so hard that she did not see a pair of fine boots before her for a good moment.

When she did, she frowned and her head bobbed up; before her was stood a lean young man with flaming red hair and an almost pained expression on his adolescent face. Melody knew him right away; he was Teagan, Arl Eamon's much younger brother. He was friends with Fergus and she had spoken to him on occasion when he warded at her father's castle the year before. Melody cracked an inviting smile and exclaimed without thinking;

"Teagan! It's been ages, how are you?!"

At the sound of her voice coupled with her genuine joy of seeing him, Teagan let out a breath and sighed before chuckling. The nineteen-year-old sobered and bowed with a small smile; "Hello, Melody. I am well and it is wonderful to see you here. Would you like to dance?" Melody beamed again, getting to her feet; she felt Delilah Howe's hatred for her simply radiate from behind her and nodded at Teagan, not caring for Delilah's scorn.

"I would love to."

It seemed that Melody's father would be getting a talking to when he finally made his children retire; he sent Melody and Fergus to their chambers much later than the hour as he had promised his fiery wife, but Melody knew the look which her mother had given her father. She knew the Teyrn would get away with it tonight.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight, my sister? Teagan could barely take his eyes off you; it took the Arl and Father twenty minutes of bullying to make him ask you to dance."

Melody laughed and her eyes widened; "Really? I always liked Teagan...he's nice. But he's not the King." At that it was Fergus' turn to laugh as he flung an arm around his sister's shoulders; "Nobody's the King! I thought you would have grown out of that by now." Melody sighed and shrugged her brother off and cast her eyes downward,

"I know it's silly, Fergus...But I just think he's wonderful and nobody can live up to him. Not Teagan. Not Thomas. Not even Cailan...They're all boys."

Fergus' laughter boomed; "And you want a man. Dear sister, you're young...You'll find your Maric soon, I'm sure." He trailed off before adding playfully; "Or our dear sweet mother will choose you one!"

"Oh, shut up!" Melody said, whacking his arm lightly; "I know she will...but I don't think-"

She cut herself off quickly not wanting to divulge her heart's desire to Fergus; brother or not, he would not understand her love of the King – it sounded too strange, even to herself. But she did, she loved him from afar at every joust, every meeting of the Landsmeet, every trip and every feast she would gaze at him and grow to love him with more and more fervour. Finally she shrugged and sighed sadly,

"It doesn't matter. Good night, Brother." She said sadly and kissed his cheek, leaving him alone outside her door.

-ooo-

The next day began boringly; rain plummeted from the skies and the court was house-bound and agitated. So much for summer one noble complained until another one pointed out that summer rains in Ferelden were a natural accordance. A natural annoyance, Melody thought. It meant that all the noisy nobles and their noisy wives were inside the castle right along with their noisy children. All that coupled with the noisy servants made for a bad reading environment. Melody cursed and made her way down to the Arl's vast library and bumped into a familiar, beautiful face; the Princess eyed her coldly as though she were nought but an ant come before her and said coolly,

"Ah, see here; if it isn't the Fool Girl from Denerim. How fares it, fool? Have you fallen today?"

Melody's eyes immediately hit the floor in reverence of the Princess. Anora was beautiful, regal...cold. Like a lovingly made marble statue, she embodied the chill of the wind outside as she eyed the young Cousland up and down as though she were a peasant walked in from the middens and not a noble of more substance than herself.

"N-no, my lady..." Melody whispered and Anora laughed a brittle chuckle; around her were her usual accomplices, the ladies-in-waiting who were there to guard the Princess's virtue. Like Cailan ever thought of bedding his ice-princess before shooting a bow. The thought nearly made Melody laugh and the Princess demanded sharply; "Is there something funny, fool?!"

Melody's eyes widened and she gaped, "No. But I was just thinking that if you put more effort into your marital prospects as you do slandering me, then you may actually get somewhere, my lady."

Anora's colour rose so quickly, her hands were like talons and Melody thought that the older woman might claw at her. She spat coldly, "What did you just say, you blighted fool-girl?!"

"Nothing. Nothing, my lady...I didn't mean-"

"Ladies?" The voice commanded respect and order; the scene obviously needed some.

Anora was bent over the smaller girl, her hands outstretched and hostile; bearing down on the child like a slavering wolf. King Maric stepped forward and placed a hand on his friend's daughter's shoulder and said lightly;

"Why not head upstairs to your chamber, Anora and dress for dinner." The girl's blue eyes did not leave Melody as she replied to the King, her lips barely moving; "Yes, Uncle. Of course, right away." With that she spun on her heel and marched off with as much grace as she could salvage, with her entourage of idiots fluttering her along.

Melody's head felt sore, her throat closing, she eyed the King and curtsied demurely and tried to dash off but the King stopped her and said kindly;

"You will have to excuse Anora. She has not yet grasped the grace of entitlement enough to not flaunt it in others faces yet I fear. Are you needed down in the kitchens, girl?"

"The kitchens, Sire?"

"Yes..." The King said, now looking at her. His unbearably clear eyes narrowed on Melody making her blush and squirm; her belly completely aflutter with nerves, she peeped up with genuine modesty and the King took a breath and a smile broke along his exquisite face; "Aha!" He exclaimed;

"I _do_ know you, child. My little friend from Denerim; have you mastered those damned heels yet?"

Melody gaped. She would never have expected the King to remember her. "Yes...Yes, Your Majesty."

"Aye, I remember my Rowan in those blighted things...she always complained of them, she did."

"The Queen was a warrior was she not, Sire?" The King nodded, leaning up against the windowsill and peered out of the window. Rain cascaded down the window; bright overcast clouds illuminated his handsome face, Melody, unable to look away listened as the King's voice became morose for the first time in her hearing;

"Aye, she was. My Rowan was an amazing woman...Did you know she fought through an entire company to get to me? She was my comrade, my Queen, and my wife. A soldier without equal and so loyal..."

"You miss her very much, Your Grace?" Melody squeaked, unexplainably hurt by his admiration of the Queen.

At that he turned his attention back to her and eyed her closely; "Yes, girl. I do miss her." He responded tartly making Melody back away; he noticed and softened. "My apologies for the mix up, you do not dress as the other maids do." He said, changing the subject.

"Well," Melody began, pawing her plain dress; "Why wear something fine on a day like this?"

"Well said," The King chuckled and started down the corridor. "Farewell, little soldier; whatever transgression you offended Anora with – I'd keep out of her way for a bit." Melody nodded, smiling; "Thank you, Sire."

"Unless you wish to prove to her that you are the fool she named you."

-ooo-

"Ten silvers on you backing out, Cousland!"

Prince Cailan laughed and threw down the shiny coins before Fergus; the younger man chuckled and matched the bet and said confidently; "No fear, I'll do it." There was a clamour as the other young men raised their tankards and drank on the bet made. The Prince smiled roguishly and said in a hushed tone to Fergus and the others, "We must keep this quiet, though."

Fergus nodded; "Agreed, my mother would have a fit if she found out." Some of the others nodded.

"Then it's settled; it shall be between us five and we'll do it today; while my father and the Arl are out hunting."

The boys all hit their tankards together in their pact. Melody came up alongside her brother and queried curiously, her features laughing. Fergus turned away from the others, pulling his sister aside so that they could not leer at her; he lowered his head so that he could hear her voice;

"How goes it? What's the venture? What's between you five?" She asked quickly smiling.

"Did you hear everything?!" Fergus demanded and Melody laughed, "Not everything – but enough. Tell me!"

"I can't, Sister. It's not for you to know. Now, you should get back to the bench." He said sternly making Melody curl her nose and complain; "Oh, I hate sitting on that thing – if Delilah sneers at me one more time I'll scream!"

"Is that not the way of you women, Sister? Sneer and hiss at each other until you both stop envying one another?" Melody frowned up at him and said blandly; "No. And you really have no idea. Come on, Fergus; what's the thing?! I won't tell anybody I promise-"

"Fergus?"

It was Prince Cailan who came up behind Melody and jerked his head at the older Cousland; "We're heading now, I'm telling my father that we're not riding today...Are you coming?" He added with a dark grin. Fergus returned the smile with a twinkle in his eye and Melody eyed them both suspiciously. Nudging her brother she hissed; "Are you doing something dangerous?" Fergus laughed and ruffled her hair making her shriek;

"Nay, Sister. Stay here and eat your breakfast – we'll be back soon." With that he kissed her forehead and departed with the group of young men lead by the Prince leaving Melody to ponder what they were up to.

"I don't suppose you'll be sitting with us, fool? Or would you rather gallivant with the boys?"

It was Anora. Slowly Melody turned and eyed the Princess; she looked radiant today in a dress of pure white as if to boast her chastity and commitment to her vow as Cailan's untouched betrothed. She quite put Melody to shame who was dressed in a dark green gown of silk.

It seemed that Delilah had joined the Princess's putrid gang, standing at the back being overshadowed by one of the prettier ones. Melody shook her head and politely declined the Princess's barbed invitation, citing that she wished to sit with her mother and the ladies instead of the maids.

"Hmph, suit yourself; but you really should make friends, fool. It's wise if you have...foes."

"I'll keep that in mind, my lady." Melody returned and watched as she turned and left, her minions in tow.

It was late afternoon when Melody managed to excuse herself from her mother's company as she wished to rest before dinner. Melody made her excuses and set off outside. Pulling on a pair of leather boots over some old crimson leggings she had found, she pulled a ratty old cloak around her shoulders and sneaked out of the large doors which lead out into the castle's courtyard and made her way down into the town of Redcliffe.

The rain, heels and hooves had churned the lanes into slippery mulch and Melody picked her way down them carefully. She followed a guard's direction to the cliffs which overlooked the town and peered over the side down into the grey waves which battered the cliff face.

Suddenly there was a gleeful whoop from her left, her head twisted round and her eyes widened; standing bolt upright, shirtless and trembling at the side of the bluff was Fergus. Slowly Melody pushed herself from the wall and stepped towards her brother just as he took a step off the cliff she screamed his name so loudly she was sure he could hear her over the waves.

Fergus turned his head and looked straight at her but it was too late; he was over the edge and falling. Without thinking, Melody ran forward and called his name. Somebody grabbed her around the waist as she made towards where her brother stood; the girl struggled and battled against the strong arms which held her in their tight grasp.

"Enough, girl!"

Cried a voice and when Melody turned and eyed her occupier she gasped, the Prince was standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her back from the edge. The young man's expression was irritated until his blue eyes fixated on the girl's face and he saw panic-induced tears had sprung to her green eyes and were now spilling over and running down her cheeks. "My brother..." She started breathlessly and the Prince nodded behind her; Melody turned and frantically followed his gaze and saw her brother climbing back up a shallow hill. They had been jumping from the cliffs for amusement she realised.

Melody felt like a fool but did not care as she threw off the Prince's warm arms and ran towards her barely-clothed brother and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his bare chest she hiccupped,

"I thought...I thought! I didn't know what I thought, you idiot!"

With that she began to batter her little fist off his chest, relief and anxiety all muddled up; he held her as she wept until she composed herself. When she had; she looked around at all the boys; they were just as shirtless as Fergus and all eyeing her as thought she were mad. It was the Prince who spoke first; now with his clothes back on, he instructed the others to get themselves ready to go back to the castle, but not before he pleaded with Melody in a quiet voice;

"My lady, I am sorry for the...distress we caused you. But please do not mention this to anybody up at the castle."

Tears still stained her cheeks as Melody nodded vacantly and pressed into her brother's side; painfully shy and embarrassed by the scene she had caused, she blushed from behind her brother's shoulder and mumbled;

"I won't, Your Grace. I was a fool to get so worked up. I shan't tell anyone I swear."

"Thank you," The Prince said with a kind smile.


	3. A Brass Heart

**III.**

A Brass Heart

"I'm sorry for scaring you, Melody..."

Fergus repeated for the third time quietly in Melody's ear at dinner that evening. "I feel like such a _fool_." She grumbled back in a monotone as she blandly pushed her food around her plate with her fork. Her brother's expression was one of glee mixed with a little pity; "You're not a fool." He said staunchly making Melody look at him,

"You're my little sister and I should have maybe trusted you...It's just Mother. I knew how she would react if she ever found out and I did not want to compromise your honour by feeling compelled to lie for me if she got wind of what we were up to at the cliffs. D'you understand, Mel?"

"I understand, Fergus...I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked, one dark brow cocked and Melody shrugged; "I must have looked like such an imbecile; screaming your name and crying...in front of the Prince..."

"Ah..." Fergus purred making Melody's green eyes narrow; "Oh, dear lady! Perish the thought that the Prince of Ferelden saw my baby sister cry after watching her brother leap from a cliff with no knowledge as to why!" He jested lightly, nudging Melody out of her black mood. A smile split her face and she bobbed her head, "He must have thought me mad!" She giggled and Fergus nodded;

"Cailan's not..._that_ foolish. Of all you might think of his father, Cailan will one day be king...it's a strange thought, it is." At his suddenly anxious tone, Melody leaned in and whispered; "What is?"

Fergus peered at her with his clear blue eyes and looked every inch a young lad coming into himself; his slightly darkened cheeks was scant evidence of a beard, his eyes which were once bulbous and innocent were a little more sunken in and less trusting. His face was tightening and changing with his martial training; making the boy strong as all heirs must be, Melody gasped softly when she realised that for the first time she saw the strength of the likeness betwixt Fergus and their father and from looking at Bryce, one could determine how Fergus would look as an older man.

"It's just strange to think that one day I'll serve him as king as his teyrn...I-I don't know if I'm ready."

"You have plenty of time," Melody comforted him while she nibbled at her food. Fergus shrugged helplessly and sighed, "I'll just need to deal with it as it comes...I'd much rather a crusade mind you."

-ooo-

Melody sat carefully on her cream palfrey, back straight and eyes forward she heard a familiar voice chortling and turned her head slightly; her face aflame with humiliation. The Prince and his group of lads pulled their mounts alongside her own, padding along as she was with her mother and Lady Landra; _shunned_ as she was to ride with the maids.

"Good day, Lady Cousland." The Prince said lightly.

"Good day to you, Your Grace." Lady Eleanor replied, her voice soft. Without turning away from the young man she prompted Melody; "Darling, won't you greet the Prince?" Melody sighed and felt her shoulders slump as she peered over and saw him raise a blonde brow grandly; his expression was one of amusement which made Melody avert her eyes timidly; "Good day, my Prince." She uttered flatly, peeking back furtively – but the Prince was already distracted, chatting to Fergus and laughing loudly.

With that, she sighed and quietly thanked the Maker that no one was speaking to her anymore. Her eyes looked head-on as she rode proudly on her horse; she much preferred the saddle as opposed to the confining litter. Melody breathed deep the southern air and was delighted to be riding back home after so long away from Highever; she thought that maybe she had had her fill of the court and the bustle that came with it. Just as she was taking a deep breath she noticed the Princess riding alongside her father; the General looked exhausted, grim and slightly annoyed at the slow pace of the progress – Melody did not blame him, she wished she was _dashing_ north too.

Their company was fairly smaller as Arl Eamon was not travelling with the court, electing to stay with his newborn son and wife for the summer; the King was returning to Denerim, his summer progress beginning once more – he would be staying at the great houses that littered the Bannorn on his way back. General Loghain was also returning home to his estates in Gwaren and leaving his daughter in the care of the King at his palace. Arl Rendon Howe was sending his family onwards to Amaranthine as he was stopping off in Denerim on business, the Arl's abnormally large nose was stuck firmly in the air as he rode alongside Melody's father; Bryce looked like a handsome oil painting in comparison to the Arl.

The ride was long and boring; Melody ambled along beside her mother for most of the journey, the King rode on ahead with his advisors and men-at-arms and his master-of-horse making the already dreary trip even more so for him not being present. The Couslands were to make rest at the estate of Lady Landra's husband, Bann Loren. Fergus bade a jovial farewell to Cailan and waved off the remainder of the King's company – Melody loathed to see him ride away but had to look on the bright side which was that she would not need to suffer Delilah Howe for one more insufferable moment. She – nonetheless – waved her off as though they were the greatest friends.

Anora had the coldest eyes as she rode away, leaving Melody in her elegant wake.

After a week's riding and the tedium which came with that, Melody was elated to be staying in a house, with clean water and a feather mattress to comfort her and her sore rider's back. Bryce instructed his family to greet Bann Loren; the Bann was a portly gentleman with the most outrageous red hair Melody had ever saw in her life, but he was an exceptionally kind man with sparkling brown eyes and a merry ginger beard that covered his chins. Melody smiled as the Bann took her hand and kissed it;

"My dear, Melody! Look at you! A court beauty we have here, Bryce! Just like her mother; ah, dear Eleanor! How are you?"

Lady Eleanor dismounted fluidly, so elegant was the Teyrna that she was already tugging off her delicate silken gloves and extending a pale hand to Bann Loren with a genuine and warm smile on her face before he'd even crossed the courtyard;

"Loren, it is wonderful to see you. I am very well, thank you."

"And where is my beloved wife? Tell me you brought her home, I have been at a loss..." He said in a dramatic tone which made Melody giggle – the Bann was such a flirt, even to his wife of thirty some years. Lady Landra pulled up on her strong gelding and beamed lovingly down on her husband as he waved Lady Cousland away vacantly, entranced as he was by his dear wife. Melody shot a glance to her brother who raised his eyebrows and made a face as the Bann caught his lady love in his grasp as she dismounted and planted a shamefully romantic kiss on her lips.

There was a chorus of woops and whistles – Melody almost clapped, it was as good as a play. After the Bann greeted his wife he brought out his son, Dairren, whose hair was just as red as his father's although much more kempt. Melody smiled pleasantly at the timid young man and offered her hand for him to kiss; he was a tall boy, all elbows and knees with a bad habit of turning his gaze any time he was graced with a look. Melody quite liked him and made sure to pour extra warmth into her smile – she had heard from her mother that Dairren was quite the scholar, an intriguing calling for a young man she thought and something that interested her.

"Now, let's see what we can do about getting you all fed and rested, my dear." Lady Landra purred sweetly to Lady Cousland, threading her hand through the Teyrna's arm; Melody heard her mother laugh and watched as they entered the estate, hanging back, she held onto her horse's reigns until a lad came and took them.

"Something wrong, Pup?" Melody turned and her father was polishing an apple on his jerkin,

"No, Papa..." She lied with a bland smile,

"So there _is_, then. Are you missing the excitement already, darling?" The Teyrn joked, unknowing to how close he was to the truth; Melody did not betray her own strange feeling of abandonment. She would miss the court...her heart would break for love of the King. It would break if she could not see him looking grand and handsome in his golden breastplate; his darling face smiling underneath a beautiful helm of golden wings. At the thought of him, she sighed again and forced a smile,

"No, I think I shall enjoy the peace."

"Good," He said, throwing an arm around her shoulders, "I want to keep you out in the country air for a while longer before you're thrown into the court of Denerim." He growled the last part, almost grudgingly – his expression was dark,

Melody felt like her world had just rocked. She stared up at her father and gaped like a simpleton. Melody had only ever been to the Palace of Denerim once, never had she sat as one of the court, one of the maids-in-waiting; was she to be assigned to the Princess's household? A strange giddiness surged within her; she wanted to go, she honestly felt a need so great to be close to the Princess, to the King, the intrigue...but at the same time was unwilling to go back.

She did not fit in and she knew it; Anora had come out and said as much, she had declared herself Melody's foe – or implied it at the very least back in Redcliffe. Why did Melody so wish to be close to her? In truth it was because the Princess was the oddest and most gorgeous woman Melody had ever known; she had never seen a woman – a commoner – hold herself in such high regard. Anora was everything Melody wished to be; confident, clever, sure and beautiful.

"Am I..." Melody's voice faded as her father took a bite of his apple. "Am I to go to Denerim, Father?" She asked seriously and he nodded; he was not paying much attention, frowning at one of the stable boys who had a hold of her horse's reigns. Melody tugged at his sleeve to draw him back;

"Yes, Pup?"

"Am I for Denerim...soon?" The Teyrn didn't even seem to hear her as he eyed her for a moment before nodding, "I am leaving for Denerim in a fortnight – you and your mother will join me."

Melody scowled, "What about Fergus?"

"Oh, he'll be joining the Prince in the south in Gwaren – Loghain is warding them for the summer."

Suddenly he was off, exclaiming at the treatment of Melody's horse and scolding the lad for his carelessness while Melody stood dumb. Her eyes found her brother who was stood, arms folded chatting to Dairren who was standing absolutely rigid with his hands behind his back; catching her eye; Fergus grinned and waved happily. With a weak and watery smile, Melody returned the wave although it lacked any sort of happiness or levity.

-ooo-

Bann Loren's estate was small, elegant and intimate; Melody had hardly been out of Highever and the house which overlooked the vast and sprawling areas of almost flat-out fields, which all across them slinked yellow roads littered with caravans and silvery lakes which were dotted with swans, geese and ducks was a gorgeous retreat.

It was a lovely little jewel of a house and Melody took full advantage of the Bann's beautiful and well-kept library. Stepping inside the small studious room which was utterly packed with tomes, scrolls and books; Melody breathed in the familiar musty smell of crinkling parchment and smiled contentedly before curling up on one of the plush chairs to either read hungrily or to simply gaze out of the large window embrasure out at the lanes which ran down the gardens.

A week in the Bann's home and Melody almost wished she did not have to leave soon; one day as she read peacefully in the sunlit library a soft clearing of the throat alerted her to another's presence; gazing up, she beheld Teagan Guerrin. He smiled sheepishly before gently closing over the door,

"Forgive me for interrupting, my lady..."

Melody grinned and shook her head kindly, "Not at all, Teagan. Are you looking for me?" The red-headed boy shook his head and said, "No, I am here to collect a book for your father."

"I see..." She said before asking conversationally as he perused the shelves, "Are you warding with the General as well as my brother and the Prince?"

He bobbed his head, taking a ginger step into the well lit room and stood at a gentlemanly distance, "Yes, I believe so – after the summer I shall head to...Rainisfere." At that Melody nodded, she could hear the trepidation in his voice; it was the same quiver which Fergus got when he spoke of his duty and destiny to become the next Teyrn of Highever. Placing her book down, Melody offered kind-heartedly,

"I'm sure you'll do fine as Bann, Teagan. In fact, I'm positive you will."

Teagan blushed to his ears and cleared his throat again, "T-thank you, my lady...May I ask what you are doing for the summer?" Melody's face fell at the thought of spending a lonely summer without her brother and sighed heavily, "I will be in Denerim with my mother and father – serving Anora, I think."

The Bann-to-be made a face which made Melody giggle, "I'm sure you'll be fine, my lady. Anora is an easy lady to serve – if you can excel at _everything_." That made Melody chuckle outright,

"Yes, one can be overbearing and at liberty at the same time and still not lose any charm, am I right?"

Teagan did not falter, he laughed, and threw back his head and his shoulders jumped at the jest, "My lady, you shall fit in better in Denerim than you give yourself credit. Just mind where you look and do not get underfoot with her and I believe you shall be alright."

"Thank you, Teagan – that is kind of you." Melody cooed sweetly making the young man step back and avert his eyes. "Well...I should get that book for your father. Good day, my lady and good luck in Denerim."

-ooo-

"I'll miss you, my son." Lady Eleanor almost sobbed as her son saddled his horse. "I know, Mother. Don't worry though." The Teyrna could barely contain her emotion and quickly bade her son goodbye and left him standing on the step of Bann Loren's front door. The courtyard was a-bustle with activity, the Teyrn and his wife were making ready to depart and Fergus and Teagan were also.

Melody watched as her father grasped his son's shoulder and wished him a fair journey and urged him to write; Fergus bobbed his head solemnly and grinned confidently. "I will, Father."

At that the Teyrn embraced his boy with a quick pat on his back before releasing him and shaking hands with Teagan; "You boys mind yourselves, now." Was all he said as he departed, ruffling Melody's hair as he passed her; she saw the grief on his face – mirroring his wife's.

"So, dear Sister; what shall become of you when I return? You'll be engaged to some princeling by the time I get back no doubt." His smile was warm, and he held out a hand for her and said, "You be good for Mother, now."

"I'll miss you, Brother..." Melody said, tears in her eyes and Fergus laughed at her foolishness,

"Now, now, it's only for the summer and I promise there will be no cliff-jumping in Gwaren. The current down there is quite strong so I'm told!"

"Oh, be quiet!" Melody exclaimed as she flung her arms around his neck and mumbled, "Be safe, Brother. And remember to write, d'you promise?" Gently he pushed her away, "Aye, I promise."

With that, Melody nodded sadly – her nose reddening. Turning to Teagan, she smiled and offered apologetically, "I had not meant for anybody to see me weep, ser. Forgive the theatrics, but my brother is a fool who needs to be watched and I fear for him sometimes."

"Hey!"

At that Teagan laughed throatily and waved a hand, "It is nothing, my lady. I would not presume to reprimand a sister who worries for her brother. But allow me to bid you farewell, lest you embarrass yourself even more so, eh?" There was a teasing in his voice; Melody giggled and gave him a hand which he kissed and he gave her a small bow;

"Until we meet again, my lady."

"Goodbye, Teagan."

Before long Fergus and Teagan were both saddled, with a household of servants and guards, the boys rode out of the courtyard southward with no second glances. Melody felt her mother's hand take hers and gently squeeze her fingers to comfort her; "I'll miss him so much..." Lady Eleanor whispered and Melody leaned in and pined,

"So will I..."

They watched like hounds on point until they were nought but specks in the distance and when they could make out neither hide nor hair of the departed boys, only then did they both turn around and head back inside.


	4. Stone Fool

**IV.**

Stone Fool

Clattering into the courtyard of Urien Kendell's estate, the wizened Arl stood moodily on the steps before the huge oaken doors to his home. Flanked by his bleak-looking household, the Arl of Denerim bowed almost begrudgingly to the Cousland entourage; Bryce threw a consequential look to his wife and covertly rolled his eyes making her smother a small giggle and look away decorously.

"Ah, Your Lordship, how..._wonderful_ it is to have you with us."

Bryce smiled tightly, tossing his reigns to a lad – he came to a halt before the Arl and gestured with a cock of his head, "How flattered I am that you chose to have us here, my lord. Your home is very beautiful in the summer." Urien's white unkempt brows furrowed at the front in the Teyrn's tone – the veiled insult which was laced with sweet adulation – he grinned which seemed more akin to a grimace and bowed again;

"The Landsmeet is always a joining of opinions, Your Lordship. We must all suffer each other's amicably."

"That we must." Bryce said with finality, closing the implied word-fence between the two men. At the Arl's ascension, they shook hands and Bryce presented his wife to the Arl; the Teyrna seemed unwilling to give her delicate hand to the wheezing old man, but kept her smile slathered on her face nonetheless; Melody frowned when she noticed her mother gently and stealthily wiping the back of her hand on her already soiled travelling cloak.

"May I present my daughter to you, my lord; Melody?"

At her father's behest, the girl slid down from her horse and made her way across the grey yard to stand before the short Arl. He was an old man with long matted white hair, a prominent hawkish nose hung over thin, downturned lips and his skin was as greasy as a scullion's cooking pan.

His balding scalp was partially hidden beneath a rich velvet cap; his face was bare of hair only adding to his feeble appearance. He extended a hand which was gnarled, thick with hard skin, his nails were like those of an old witch's; long and yellow, ill-kept and dirty – Melody did as her mother did after he slobbered all over her knuckles. The Arl peered at her sharply with blue eyes which were dulling with age and rasped;

"Unmarried?" His tone was smooth as he eyed Melody up and down like a shady horse trader, taking in her small frame and glaring down at her little hands;

"So's my boy – she'd make a _fine_ wife for him." Melody nearly balked when his ghastly tongue lolled from his mouth slightly; she backed away slowly and pressed up against her mother. The Teyrn made a sweeping motion with his hand and ruled, "My girl will not be married off like cattle before she has even matured, Urien. Fine as she may be, it is _my_ will that she stay unmarried for now."

"You would turn your nose up at a proposal, Bryce?" The Arl croaked with all the bad nature of an old man looking for an excuse to complain, "A man could get _offended_ by that."

"A man would be a fool to do so, my friend." Bryce warned diplomatically and there was a sharp tension in the air until a disgustingly toothless smile split the old Arl's face; "So it would be."

Turning, he began to shuffle towards the doors to his home, shoving aside a little elven servant, "I suppose you'll be wanting to stay, then? Maker, first the King and now the blighted up-jumped nobles!" He mumbled unceremoniously leading them, not waiting for them as he should while he motioned with a yellow talon for the doors to be opened; Melody caught her father's eye – which twinkled at the Arl's bad humour. She smiled as he looked very much like Fergus then.

"Yes, if that's no inconvenience to _you_, my lord." Bryce teased, making his wife gently bat his arm to hush him. The Arl – oblivious to Bryce's repartee – threw his hand in the air and complained,

"No! By all means, I am oft told my home is akin to damned halfway-house! Please, make yourselves at home...Or go and make merry in the blighted Alienage for all I care. Just don't make a mess!"

-ooo-

The Arl's 'boy' was by no means a young lad, although devilishly striking with blue eyes which were as sharp and cruel as any wicked blade and a mouth which was for the most part curved into a calculating and sardonic smile, he seemed to Melody to be closer to his thirtieth year than his twentieth. His hair was still thick however, stylishly short and the colour of dark honey, his beard was the same. Melody did her best to keep her head down and avoid his leering eyes; she sat close to her mother at dinner and refused to look directly at the Arl's son, Vaughn.

The great house which the Arl dwelt was as beautiful as the Teyrn had said, great sprawling gardens stretched down grandly until they ended at a small pier where the Arl's barge sat awaiting passengers to take them upstream to the Palace of Denerim. The interior was rich and lavish, cushioned window embrasures and solars with high ceilings littered the already grand abode, and huge hand-carved fireplaces warmed each of these delightfully well-lit chambers. Melody was agape when she peered up to see each wall was adorned with paintings of the Arl's ancestors, all gruff and mean looking men and beside them – to her surprise – lovely, delicately featured ladies.

The household, the servants and pages were all mostly elves; Melody saw a great deal of fear – and sometimes chagrin – in their bulbous almond eyes. The women kept their heads bowed whilst the men seemed to resent the treatment – all the while still keeping their heads down low in reverence to the Arl and his son.

Melody saw on a few occasions, Vaughn eyeing some of the female elven servants hungrily, greedily; as though he would catch them up and devour the fragile little things like puff pastries. Those looks frightened her slightly and when he caught her looking so his eyes shifted smoothly and rested on her and she saw for herself, one of his silken smiles bestowed upon her. With a start she eluded his gaze and refused to look at him.

Each corridor was decorated with a grand tapestry, a hunt, a play; foxes and does all converged along the sunlit passageways making Melody feel as though she were being watched all the time. In the gardens one could always hear a lute being played to accompany a game of bowls – which the Arl himself was very good at – or a tennis match or just simply a small group of ladies sat reading a book aloud in the shade.

The nights were the most stressful for Melody, each evening the Arl would have an open supper – where the common folk of Denerim could come and plead their cases and have it resolved by the ill-tempered Arl himself. Melody flushed crimson to be seen eating so wantonly extravagantly before the small folk. The Arl's favourite dishes usually comprised of stuffed poultry arranged with ripe fruit and a huge assortment of cheeses frittered around it. During dinner, Melody often opted to simply nibble at her food not looking at the skinny bereft elves that approached the Arl's table, flanked by his son looking bored and lecherous all at the same time.

"And what's your problem?" The Arl spat one evening,

The elf whom had approached wrung his cap in his bony hands, gulping down the trepidation of being before the Arl who squinted hatefully at him as well as his son who glared at him disdainfully. "I...My lord, the Alienage is...it...well..." The Arl rolled his eyes nastily and chomped on his food. Melody looked over at her mother, a frown on her face; the Teyrna shook her head, her lips nothing but a thin line at the mistreatment and lack of respect for the obviously nervous man.

"C'mon, spit it out! What's the issue?!" The Arl snapped,

"We need a new gate, ser..."

"A new gate." The Arl repeated incredulously one of his brows cocked stoutly, "Can you not _build_ one, man? Are the elves so content as to let the last one fall into disrepair?"

"The last one was...broken down, my lord."

The Arl was losing interest and he sat back with a gravelly sigh, his claws rested on his thin tummy, swamped in his thick velvet garments – he looked every inch the failing old man that he was. Still sharp as ever though, he shrugged and shook his head; "Did you blighters get drunk once more and break it? If so; I see no reason why _I_ should replace your damned gate."

The elf was sweating, he was positively glistening and Melody felt her stomach churn for the man; if Adne or any elf in her father's castle needed something, anything repaired, he would only need to ask Old Rod to do it. If the elven servants needed clothes, Lady Eleanor would ensure that each was given a bolt of cotton to sew their own clothes. Boots and slippers were usually pre-owned and the clothes darned but washed and still good quality and they were _servants_. How the Arl could address his charges – his people – so, Melody had no idea and felt very sorry then for the elves under the Arl's resentful protection and patronage.

"It was broken down by some sh-" He broke off before regaining his composure, "Some _humans _returning from the Pearl. Drunk, I think, my lord. We caused them no trouble, but we do need a gate to keep them...and us separate."

"Oh, fine, fine!" Arl Urien barked, bored of the complaint, "Very well I shall send a carpenter to the blighted Alienage to repair your blasted gate! Does that satisfy you?"

The elf bowed, relieved to have gotten his request granted, "Yes, my Arl. Thank you, thank you."

"Hmph is there any more business, or can I return to my dinner already?" He grumbled in return, waving a hand for the elf to be escorted for his sight.

Melody watched as Vaughn followed the elf with narrowed eyes before he excused himself, throwing his napkin on the table by his half-empty plate. Melody wondered where he was getting off to, and hoped he was not going in the same direction as the elf that had just been taken away...for the elf's sake as much as anybody's.

-ooo-

"Why does the Arl have the people approach him at dinner, Mother?"

Melody asked that night as she dressed for bed; she sat before the mirror in her chamber as her mother ran a fine toothed comb through her long dark tresses. Her mother shrugged exasperated, not breaking the fluidity at which she was brushing her daughter's hair with and uttered, "The Arl is an _old_ man, darling. He will be approaching his eighty-third year this winter. He is very much still in the old ways of doing things."

"Is that what grandfather did then? Did he have an open court like Arl Urien?" Lady Cousland shook her head, not looking up; "No. Your father's father was a gentle man; he would not allow the impoverished to see him guzzle down delicacies while they themselves starved. Like your father, your grandfather held an open court every Seventhday and anybody who had their grievances could approach him for his wisdom or his ruling."

"I see," Melody sighed. Without warning Melody turned around in her stool, her mother frowned at the sudden movement but Melody said quickly, "When are we leaving, Mother? I don't like the Arl...or his son – they're brutes. The way he spoke to that man earlier nearly made me sick..."

"I know, my dear. But your father is at the palace – the Landsmeet has been called, you must be patient and wait for his business to be concluded, when the King returns from his progress then we shall be called to join your father."

"Why wasn't the Arl summoned to the Landsmeet?" Melody asked and her mother shook her head, turning the girl back around so she could finish untangling her mane of hair;

"The business of the Landsmeet does not concern him this time around. There have been reports of raider attacks on Arl Howe's lands – he is petitioning for a larger guard and more men, your father has gone in support of his claims. It is a small meet and one that does not even need the attendance of the King. He shall send his ascent or his decline with his royal seal from wherever he may be in the Bannorn at this particular moment and the affairs of the Landsmeet shall be concluded."

The Teyrna said in a hushed tone, tying Melody's soft hanks of hair into a long braid which came down to past her waistline before tucking it up into her nightcap and resting her soft hands on her daughter's shoulders; "The people here are different from in Highever..." Melody whispered and the Teyrna nodded, "I know, sweetheart. They may seem..._harder_ here but that is just the way of things."

"I wish I were home...I wish Fergus was here."

"As do I, darling." Her mother said, pressing a soft kiss upon her daughter's head, she whispered into her nightcap, "But this is our duty. We must sit and smile and pretend that the Arl and his son are the greatest men who ever lived – it is not an easy duty and not one which most of us relish." At that Melody frowned, "I thought you said my duty was to be patient, courteous and fair...?"

"It's all the same, Melody. Your father and the Arl fought together during the Occupation – you must show him the greatest respect, just as you show your father. The Arl is not an evil man, darling – he is just old and set in his ways. You must be understanding and not judge him so harshly."

Melody resented the tone a little but nodded nonetheless and sighed deeply, "I understand, Mother. I will try." Lady Cousland smiled and patted her daughter's shoulder, "Good, now get to bed. There is to be boating tomorrow and I think the Arl may insist you sit with his son."

Melody began to protest hotly until her mother eyed her sternly; "You do not have to marry him, darling. Simply sit with him and be pleasant. It is no different than when you sit with young Teagan or Thomas."

A frown puckered Melody's brow. It _was_ different, Teagan was kind and sweet and although Thomas was a sour-faced little rat of a boy – he never eyed Melody as though he were undressing her with his salacious eyes.

-ooo-

Boating on the river was to Melody's hardly unbridled surprise – loathsome. Sat next to the Arl's son, Melody was appalled by his lack of manners and his aggressive nastiness to his own servants. On two separate occasions, Melody had to turn away as Vaughn slapped the elves who had affronted him for the most meagre things; one did not provide him with the correct wine and was slapped for his negligence and the second – a woman, no less – was smacked for stumbling slightly and dripping gravy on his sleeve. Melody glared at him as he wiped away the greasy substance muttering oaths as he did. "It looks better now anyway..." Melody hissed almost to herself.

"I'm sorry, did you say something, sweetling?"

Vaughn inquired his suave manner returning; Melody flashed him a lovely smile and shook her head and said, "No, my lord. I said that it is a _wonderful_ display of your masculine governance to slap that poor girl for offending your horrendous shirt."

There was silence. The elven girl was white-faced save for the red hand print on her cheek which was glowing painfully and panting almost as Melody got to her feet and made her way around Vaughn's chair and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, the elf actually flinched; Melody could not tell her age but guessed that she was quite young and comforted her softly,

"Please, I apologize for your mistreatment. Go and get something to eat – say that the Teyrn of Highever's daughter commanded that you eat your fill." Her face was aghast. She began to shake her head quickly, declaring that they would not believe such a claim and Melody soothed the fretting girl kindly, "If they do not believe your words, send for me and I shall tell them myself."

With that the elf ran off and Melody returned to her seat beside the Arl's son. He was eyeing her now as she sat, gazing upon her profile; he leaned forward and towards her, "You're a firebrand aren't you?" He purred and Melody turned to him and said stoutly,

"Not particularly, my lord, I just don't like to see anybody mistreated – elf or otherwise."

"That girl is a lazy slut whose clumsiness has cost me her gold in weight for this shirt."

Their shoulder's brushed and Melody moved away from him, hating him more and more as the afternoon went on. She watched carefully the way he treated his peers; the man was in actuality a funny and charming gentlemen when it came to the other nobles and their ladies; but his manner towards his servants was utterly sickening in Melody's humble opinion and she did not allow him to pour her a glass of wine, nor did she allow him to cut her meats for her and instead did it herself making Vaughn uppity slightly.

"My lady," He began with a chuckle, "People will think that I mistreat women if you do not allow me to be gentlemanly." Melody rounded on him sharply, "You _do_ mistreat women."

At that, the Arl's son sat back with his eyes squinted and a smirk on his face; he gasped suddenly and chuckled, "You're a strange little lady, you are." Melody ignored him when he muttered, "_Unbiddable_. You would not be _my_ first choice."

"And I thank the Maker for it, I do." Melody snapped with a turn of her head; but he was still smiling.

"And do you treat your servants very differently in Highever, my lady? Do they wear silks and leather boots, up-jumped and insolent – they think you their equals?" Melody frowned, "We do not degrade and belittle them if that's what you're asking and my father would certainly never strike them for bringing him the wrong _wine_, ser."

"But they must know their place. Your father would do well to show you your place, I think."

His grin did not waver as Melody's usually mild temper rose; "One day you will pay an awful price for your cruelty, my lord."

"Cruelty is what makes men lords, my lady. Or have you not seen my father?"

"I feel that I am looking at him right now...But you are worse than he, you are by your very nature vicious – it's in your very fibre, _I_ think." Vaughn laughed at her indignation and moved his hand so that it covered hers; like a snap, Melody's eyes were on it and she went to snatch it back but her eyes were drawn to his swollen knuckles which were red and inflamed with a dashing of purple bruising.

"That compassion for slaves will get you nowhere – you know what happened to the last woman who stood up for those knife-eared bastards," He whispered silkily in Melody's ear; she shivered uncomfortably feeling his breath on her neck; eyeing him, he said spitefully,

"She got _burned_."


	5. Eyes of Glass

**V.**

Eyes of Glass

Melody stood bolt upright in her silken gown; this was a big day. Her biggest, in fact; and she breathed in deeply trying to calm herself, hastily rubbing her hands off her hips to stop them shaking as she trembled in her light blue dress which was fringed with cloth of gold. Pearls glinted at her ears and silver links slinked around her contracting throat as she stared up dumbly into the face of the King.

Alongside her were four other young girls; their ages ranging from thirteen to sixteen at least, maybe one of the elder looking ones were seventeen, but Melody was not looking at them – she wasn't even looking at the Princess to whom she was being presented to – her eyes were fixed on King Maric. His merry blue eyes ran along the small row of maids almost vacantly – in his experience he had seen his share of young ladies presented to the court. Melody gulped down when his eyes rested on her and he gave her the faintest of smiles which nearly made her vomit but he quickly scanned right past her and she was relieved to know that he barely saw her – and a little hurt.

Anora's gaze was another matter; it sucked the very warmth from Melody's blood and made her shirk. The Princess's ice-blue eyes narrowed, like a cat that's seen a mouse and would shake its hindquarters before pouncing; she spat pleasantly with her soft articulate voice; "I do not need any more maids, Uncle. I maybe need two or three more, but certainly not _five_." At that her eyes bored into Melody – who met the Princess's spiteful stare meekly, fighting back the urge to protest; Melody remained standing patiently beside the other noble girls. The King shrugged his broad shoulders and said indifferently,

"It's in my experience that a young lady needs lots of companions. You cannot cast away such good company, Anora. I know some of these lasses to be fine conversationalists."

"Then why don't _you_ take some of them?" Anora snapped making Maric laugh loudly; "Because, my niece – _that_ would be improper of me." The Princess nodded her head slowly before looking back at the line, "I shall take on only four more, Uncle. My household is not a conclave."

"Very well then," The King sighed and watched as the Princess picked out her four maids.

After the maids had been taken under the Princess's wing all that remained was Melody standing alone and tiny; humiliated, face afire and close to tears, she dropped the Princess a curtsey and met the King's eyes which had now focused, "May I be excused, Your Majesty?" Melody nearly sobbed and the Princess waved a hand but the King stopped her; "No stop, child," He walked down the small flight of stairs and stood before Melody frowning slightly at her tear-filled eyes, he turned and asked of his daughter-to-be;

"This is Bryce Cousland's daughter. Her mother, Eleanor, is already in your service, Anora."

The Princess's colour rose and she defended herself, "I do not _need_ any more maids! I have a dozen ladies – Lady Eleanor among them – and now an extra four maids on top of the fifteen of those I have _already_, Uncle."

The King's fair grand brow was furrowed and Melody felt like bawling as the Princess closed the subject and took her newly appointed maids into her chambers, leaving Melody alone in the solar with the King, she actually did not even notice him – so consumed was she in her grief at the snuff, before the King of all people...The King!

Melody whipped herself round and dropped a deep curtsey and mumbled 'good day' before running off, tears tracking her cheeks and the swish of her gown drowning out her tearful hiccups.

The Palace of Denerim's beauty was lost on the girl as she made her way through the delightfully lavish passageways until she found herself in the palace's Chantry. Melody's red nose twitched as she walked down the aisle towards a beautifully carved bust of Andraste the Maker's Bride. She frowned at the lovely looking woman with golden hair and soft eyes, to her she resembled Anora and it angered her beyond reason and without thinking, Melody pushed the bust to the floor and it shattered loudly echoing through the hall.

Rage boiled up in Melody, her hands balled into fists she spun on her heel and was ready to leave but somebody stopped her; sitting on the pews was a young elven lass, her large green almond eyes were aghast flicking from Melody to the broken bust. Hastily and fearfully she got to her feet but Melody shook her head, "I'm sorry...please...I didn't mean to...uh..." She trailed off, her anger dulling in the face of the girl's frightened countenance.

"Milady, please – I was just leaving. I wasn't causing any trouble-"

Melody cut her off, "You don't have to leave. Are you a servant here?" She asked softly and the elf bobbed her curly head; a mane of dark curls framed her lovely elven face, "Yes, my lady. I am Erlina." It was then that Melody noted the elf's Orlesian twang and came forward tentatively, "Hello, Erlina. I am Melody. What do you do here?"

"I...I am in attendance to the Princess, my lady."

"I'm _not_ a lady," Melody snapped sharply before adding acidly, "I'm not even a maid it seems and if I can't be a maid – then I cannot therefore be a lady, can I?" The elf gulped and shook her head, curls bouncing wildly; "Please then, my...uh...please, I must return." Melody sighed and her shoulders drooped before she waved a hand, "Very well – go." The elf, Erlina, dropped a curtsey and ran off before Melody could say anything else.

With that, Melody dropped into one of the pews and gazed up at the huge stained glass window; it depicted one of the tales of Andraste – whose likeness Melody had just destroyed. The girl let out another deep sigh as her eyes ran along the lovely twinkling glass which was aglow with every colour there was; all converging into Andraste's heart, her palms covering her breast, eyes closed and golden hair sprawling behind her as the Maker's holy light engulfed her from somewhere behind her. The flames of the Tevinter Imperium illuminated her feet, the sun's summer rays lit up her departure from Thedas to be uplifted by her Maker.

Finally Melody's emotion got the better of her and she leaned forward and wept into her knees staining the silk of her gown, she quietly cried. She sobbed for her expulsion from the Princess's inner circle; she just could not understand Anora's enmity. Well, she could, but she hoped that they would make amends and become friends...No. She wanted to be close to the King and what better way than to be spliced into Anora's household? Melody wept bitterly for her own duplicity but also from her vanity – which had been wounded deeply. The King had seen her slapped down like some smelly hound by the Princess, what must he think of her? The only maid in the palace that was shunned; the daughter of a powerful Teyrn no less! Why?

Melody knew not and raised her swollen eyes back up to the window and thought indignantly;

_If you hear our thoughts and prayers why did you not answer mine? Are you even there?_

"Of course you're not..." She hissed, lost as she was in her own misery.

-ooo-

After the incident with the bust Melody was well and truly under chamber arrest. Her mother fumed that they had only been in the capital a month and already her wayward daughter was causing diplomatic offense as well as religious offense; "On top of offending Lord Vaughn at his home, you smashed the likeness of our Maker's chosen? Melody, in Orlais that crime is punishable by death!" Melody tried to protest but shrank when her father eyed her sternly; "I'm sorry, Mother..." Melody managed, her voice scraping on a pitiful sob.

Lady Eleanor was torn between pity and exasperation with her daughter and threw up her hands before storming outside to calm herself leaving Melody and her father alone in her chamber. Bryce stood stoically as his wife hurled herself from the room and waited until he heard her footsteps retreating down the passageway before he stepped forward and stood before his daughter. Gingerly Melody peered up, her lip quivered and Bryce's face softened as he placed a hand on her dark head and gave her his blessing before the girl jumped up and pushed her cheek against his chest and whimpered sadly,

"I'm sorry, Father! I didn't mean to break the bust...I mean...I did, but I was just so angry and embarrassed! I'm sorry!"

"Ah, Pup," Bryce soothed, petting her hair; "The Princess is... _haughty_ but you must learn to control yourself. You gave your mother a migraine at the Arl's house." At that, Melody pulled away; "Father, he called his servants 'slaves' and slapped a girl for spilling _gravy_ on his shirt!" The Teyrn nodded understandingly; "I know, darling. But you cannot thrust your opinions on people and you cannot insult them in their own homes! You need to learn patience-"

"But!"

"Melody!" Her father began loudly stemming the girl's voice; "Melody, darling, we're not in Highever now; this isn't the safest place for one so free with their attitude...d'you understand?" Melody didn't and shook her head stupidly as Bryce gently pushed her towards a chair and sat down before her on another; urgently he took her hands and uttered quietly and earnestly;

"If anybody were to find out about your desecration of the Maker's Bride there could be serious consequences. What would Mother Mallol have said about your behaviour?" Melody's eyes slid away but her father continued, "There are enemies here, Pup. Enemies who would exploit an innocent act of foolishness and make it seem worse. All it would take is for someone to say that you denounced Andraste to destroy you, love." Suddenly Melody felt sick and began shaking her head;

"B-but, I...I didn't mean it like that! I wasn't denouncing anything, Father! I swear!" He nodded, "I know, darling. But it's easy for things to spread; it's so easy, pet. You're not just _anybody_, Melody. You must remember to mind yourself because if you don't...you won't last long here. Are we clear, no more foolishness?"

Dourly Melody bobbed her head, meeting her father's blue eyes she saw his fatigue – he looked older than he ever did back in Highever. At her nod, the Teyrn smiled warmly and gently pressed a kiss to his daughter's brow and uttered, "Now, get dressed for dinner; I'll find your mother and explain to her that you're going to be the perfect courtier from now on." Melody smiled at his teasing and joked, "I will be, Papa. And no more desecrating – I promise."

"Good." Was all he said before getting up smoothly and leaving her to get dressed.

Dinner that evening was merry. More merry than Melody would have thought – given her day. Seated beside her mother and Lady Landra, Melody found the ladies chatter quite dull but there was music and dancing to celebrate the King's return from the Bannorn; a great feast with all his favourite dishes was also prepared for the Golden King.

Melody's head was swivelled in his direction for almost the whole night; only when she was approached by Thomas Howe did she have to drag her eyes off the King and rest them on the sallow skinned, hawk-nosed pouter that was Tom Howe.

"Dance with me, Melody." He said in his monotone drone – which was more of a command than a request. Peering towards her mother, Melody saw her strained expression and sighed as she had no choice and rose to dance with Thomas. The shorter boy's mouth was downturned as if he would rather not dance with Melody; as if holding her hand was a great insult to his silky white fingers.

They danced almost robotically; marching through the steps, Thomas kept his head turned away from Melody and she barely looked at him either – when she did look around, she saw Anora smiling softly at her plight. Melody scowled and the Princess rose a light carefully plucked brow at her chagrin, she looked very nearly interested and Melody felt her temper rise; how dare this girl make her feel so belittled!

When it came time to switch partners, Melody near enough shoved Thomas away from her and grabbed her new partner – the young man was at least as tall as she. She laughed and smiled prettily, acquiring more than a few fleeting glances from the young men in the hall; Melody blossomed under the attention and allowed herself to be tossed in the air and caught by strong arms. Throwing a risqué glance over to Anora who had to opt to sit beside her King, her husband-to-be's father and she looked positively rueful eying the younger girl sat on her lonely golden chair.

"That was quite the performance, Fool." Anora's voice slithered in Melody's ear once she'd taken her seat again; looking round, the Princess was glaring down on her; "Maybe you _do_ belong here after all." She said. Melody was roundly confused and blinked up at the fair-haired Princess.

"Come and meet me and my maids in my gardens tomorrow – I have a place for you it seems."

Melody gaped; "I will...thank you, Your Grace."

-ooo-

The morning began as any other, Melody rose with a spring in her step and broke her fast with her parents in a comfortable silence. Quickly she ate and was watched with a careful eye by her mother; when she rose, Lady Eleanor's brow rose with her; "And where are you going?" She asked sharply although not unkindly. Melody faltered as her father's attention was diverted from his food, he sat back and watched the interplay with mild curio;

"I..." Melody began, "The Princess invited me to join her and her maids in her gardens, Mother." Lady Eleanor – who usually hid any hint of surprise underneath her courtier's face – made a surprised look and a 'huh' noise in the back of her throat, "She did?" Melody's face flushed;

She had sat up practically all night wondering what the Princess would say to her today, so she was not completely surprised by her mother's shock. Nonetheless, Melody nodded;

"Yes, Mother. She said she did have a place for me after all..."

Lady Eleanor looked sceptical and a little anxious; shaking her head, she began to say something but was cut off by Bryce, "Darling, if the Princess has asked for our girl – then we should allow it." Melody beamed but stopped when she saw her mother's face, it was stony at the interruption and the overruling of her wish but she relented and nodded her head for her daughter to be off before she turned her attention to her husband. Melody did not wait about to hear their words as she ran off, leaving them both.

It was another beautiful summer's day; the heat hung heavily though and Melody found herself sweating in her dress; she patted her feet back and forth with anxiety as she stood in the gardens waiting for Anora to show. She began to feel slightly paranoid that the Princess would not show and that this was a ruse or some trick to make her look even more the fool than she already did. After twenty minutes waiting, Melody sighed and felt hot tears surge; it had to be a foul prank and yet again Melody felt like an imbecile at the pleasure of Princess Anora. Balling her fists, Melody puffed out a breath and went to leave; her departure was cut off by a slim young man in blue and yellow livery.

A fool's livery, Melody thought. His leggings were of bright yellow, with a garter of royal blue. His jerkin was the same royal blue, the embroidery was of gold, through the arms of his jerkin she could see his shirt with loose sleeves and frilly cuffs – it too was of yellow, to match his leggings. On his head was a velvet cap of blue with a large feather poking out of it; he looked grand, albeit flamboyant. Silly, even. Melody cocked an eyebrow and said a little tartly as she tried to get past; "Excuse me."

The man stopped gazing ponderously at his soft leather shoes and eyed her with a pair of straight blue honest eyes and shrugged; "By all means; you're excused." He said carelessly and Melody nodded, annoyed by him. She waited for him to move out of her way but he did not and she cleared her throat – her patience waning. Still, the man did not move. With an audible sigh, Melody looked for another exit out of the gardens, when she saw one she marched towards it and muttered under her breath, "Don't mind _me_ then. What a fool..."

"Would you know me for one?" The man asked carelessly with an easy voice. Melody turned to look at him and squinted; his accent was Orlesian. She frowned and asked, "Know you for what?"

"A fool, obviously. Silly girl."

"Would I know you for a fool?"

"Would you?"

"I don't know..."

"I do."

Melody's brow furrowed, "Then _why_ are you asking?" She said hotly. The man shrugged, "Because I know the answer." Melody's frown deepened, "Again: why are you asking then?"

"To know _your_ answer, why else?"

"I...I don't know..." Melody said once more weakly and the man chuckled heartily, "You know much but not much about me, except that I am a fool, no?" At that, Melody shook her head, "I didn't know you were a fool." The man's eyes twinkled and he came closer, "I'm _not_."

"But you said-"

"You called me a fool because I would not move. I am not a fool because I wouldn't move, young lady. But I _am_ a fool." His tone was verging on insolent; and Melody gaped.

"So...you are a fool...but you're not a fool?"

"Exactly!" He exclaimed in his elegant accent; he smiled handsomely and pointed at Melody; "You're a very clever lass – not a fool like _me_, but a fool nevertheless." The girl scowled;

"I am not a fool!" Melody groused and the man giggled and took an enthusiastic step towards her; "Why be angry with a fool? Fools speak the truth, that's what makes them funny, lass. D'you know what isn't funny?" Melody frowned, suspicious of this queer man and shook her head mutely; he grinned toothily and said smoothly; "Women. Women are not funny – not _one_ wit between you all!" Melody opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her with a well placed finger, "No. You can't speak for all of you. Take it from a professional – you're _not_ funny. You have no wit." He said almost teasingly and Melody stepped back, "I have wit! I am no lady, not even a maid." The man made an astonished expression, "Well then by the Maker! You are the prettiest lad I have ever seen, my lady! That dress looks absolutely fetching on a young man such as you!"

"I'm not a lad..."

"Really?" The man asked quizzically, "Did you mean you weren't a maid _literally_?" Melody was lost and shook her head, her mouth hung open like an idiot. The man smiled knowingly again and placed a finger under her chin to close her jaw; "First rule of comedy, my boy-lass; don't take _anything_ literally."

"Who are you?" Melody demanded and the man took a step back and bowed deeply; making his cap hit the floor, Melody giggled and pointed at it but the man just grinned up at her;

"Barry Roussel, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Melody Cousland."

"You know me?" Melody asked, backing away slightly. She was sweating from more than just the summer's heat now; she was beginning to feel strange about this Orlesian man; "I know of you, my lady. I hear you are the Princess's new fool." There was a long pause before Melody began to laugh loudly and sorely, she gripped her tummy and they both laughed themselves silly – scaring the birds from the gardens. When finally Melody's mirth was quelled, she eyed Barry and smiled;

"Thank you, Barry – I needed a laugh." Barry's smile was strained, a frown on his face; "You _are_ the right lass, no? The Princess sent you to be my partner? You _are_ the Noble Fool from Highever?"

"The Noble Fool...?" Melody repeated and chuckled, "No, I was sent here for..." Her voice faded and her eyes widened; "I don't know _what_ I was sent here for actually..."

"I do." Barry said with a wink; "You were sent here to learn how to be witty."

"I was?" Melody asked, her head cocking to the side making Barry frown darkly; "That is _not_ very witty is it? The Princess has a task for us, one which you will help me with. You will meet me here every morning after breaking your fast for your lessons."

Melody shook her head, "I'm not sure I can..." To that Barry answered in a condescending and mocking tone; "Oh, you-who-is-neither-maid-nor-lady has no time to spare for the court fool? You-who-is-almost-worse-than-useless has nothing better to do?" He tapped his long nose and winked again, "I think you'll make time; the Princess is an imperious lady, she has given you a job – best skip to it, little fool."

He turned on his heel, scooping up his cap as he did; he stuffed it on his head and smiled roguishly at the girl once more.

"Until the morrow, Mistress Fool."

Melody watched him leave, confused and more than a little put out; she puffed out her chest and stormed back into the palace wondering furiously at what had just happened.


End file.
